Pictures of You
by Mary in the Stars
Summary: A picture's worth a thousand words, but Cameron's pictures of Marissa only need four - "I'm not good enough." McKinley is in New York City, with Warblers, forgotten characters, and TGP1 and 2 members included! A Glee/Glee Project FanFiction. What's happening: The RENT cast reveal is sure to shake up a few things... Image credit: myspace dot com/marissavonbleicken
1. Superboy and the Invisible Girl

Chapter 1 – Superboy and the Invisible Girl

Cameron was always surprised by her eyes. When he met Marissa, he was sure they were green. A very vibrant, happy, expressive green. As time went on he saw that they changed. They were usually green, but they could be a pretty teal as well. Lately, he's noticed, they seem like a cool gray.

Today they're teal, and they shoot up as Cameron snaps a shot of Marissa taking a bite out of his hot dog.

"Cam!" she squeals. She lunges at his hands and switches his lunch for his digital camera. "Get rid of that!"

Cameron smiles slyly and adjusts his black-rimmed glasses. "Why? It's adorable," he says, tearing off the parts of the bun with pink lip gloss smeared on it.

"It makes me look like a pig," Marissa asserts, hitting buttons randomly. She soon gives up and shoves the camera at her date. "Delete it, please." She puts on her best pout and he reluctantly agrees.

"Okay, fine. But I still say it was cute." Cameron hits a button and another memory of this perfect afternoon is gone forever. He proffers the hot dog as a peace offering. "Want any more?"

"No, no, I'm fine," Marissa says sharply. She catches herself, though, and gives him a smile as he tosses the hot dog in the trash. "Where to next?" she asks, whirling around in a circle and breathing in the September air.

Cameron is temporarily distracted by the way the sun catches Marissa's hair, which is darkening from strawberry blonde to copper red with the changing weather. When she catches him staring – which she often does – Marissa goes in for an embrace. Cam grabs her tenderly and lifts her with ease, swinging her around before placing her back among the fallen leaves.

"What?" she asks, teal eyes staring him down.

_You're beautiful,_ he wishes he could tell her. "You...match," he says instead. He pulls an orange leaf off a nearby branch and sticks it in her hair.

"You know, you just vandalized Central Park property. I could report you," she teases. Her lips curl up and her eyes sparkle with mischief.

"You _could_," Cameron agrees, "but you won't."

Marissa's dark eyebrows arch in surprise. "Oh, I won't?"

Cameron bites his lip, smiling at the game. "Nah, you won't," he says smugly, pushing up his glasses.

"And why is that?"

"You're in love with me," he says with a completely straight face. "You could report me, turn me in, maybe even get me arrested, but you won't, 'cause you love me. Face it – you'd miss me if I went to prison."

Marissa just stares at him. Cameron thinks he sees her cheeks redden just a little bit. Finally she rests her teal-eyed gaze on him, making him squirm slightly, and kisses him. It's nothing dramatic; she doesn't push it and it doesn't last very long.

But it's still their first kiss and it's only their second date, so when Marissa pulls away and sees the look of complete and utter shock on Cameron's face, she bites her lip and apologizes.

Not normally what someone says after a kiss.

Cameron actually looks amused. "What?"

"I – I'm sorry," she stutters again, trying to judge his reaction.

Cameron gives a little laugh and leans against the tree. "Why?"

Marissa stares at him incredulously. "Because I kissed you and it's only our second date and we haven't talked about any of that stuff yet and doesn't the guy usually initiate the kiss? I didn't want to steal your thunder or anything. Do you have a girlfriend? Of course you do, you're you, and how could you not! Oh, God, I'm a tramp! And I bet she's skinny and beautiful and perfect and I'm – what?"

Marissa stops, not because she realizes she's babbling, but because Cameron is still leaning under that tree, looking at her through his camera. He takes a shot of her confused expression: copper hair almost blending in with the leaves around her, soft patches of light brightening her eyes, dark brows furrowed a little, and the slightest hint of a smile.

"Cam?"

Cameron laughs and lowers his camera, calm as ever. "That's a keeper." He grabs Marissa's hand and she feels his comforting warmth spread through her. Teal eyes look up from under dark lashes and meet brown eyes behind non-prescription lenses.

"Marissa." Hope rises in her chest the way it always does when he says her name. "You didn't steal my thunder. I've been trying to get up the guts to kiss you for weeks, and who knows when that would have happened? You are the furthest thing from a tramp that I have ever seen, because I don't have a girlfriend. But there is a girl I really, really like. She's right here," he shows her the picture he just took, "and she's absolutely beautiful."

Marissa isn't used to letting people in easily. She's been perfectly fine with her small little world in gigantic New York City, and until some months ago she thought she was fine with just her comfy friendship with Cam. But here he is, saying things. He's calling her beautiful and saying things, and she's pretty sure their comfy friendship just became something unfamiliar.

"Cam..." A gust of wind blows her hair in front of her face and ruins what she was about to say.

Cameron brushes her wavy red tresses over her shoulders, but leaves his arm around her. "You mind if I take my thunder back?"

"Not at all."

This time Cameron does the leaning in, and kisses Marissa the same way she kissed him, small and perfect.

They linger with their foreheads together until Marissa decides to try on Cam's glasses. He chases her around and takes pictures of her making funny faces, and suddenly they're not potential lovers; they're just the two music geeks who've been best friends since their freshman year.

When they're both out of breath from running up and down the path (and Cameron steals his glasses back), Marissa stops and looks out over the lake. "So, where _are_ we going next?"

"You tell me; it's your photoshoot."

"You're the guy with the camera."

"You're the model," Cameron says, and snaps a photo of her leaning against the railing. He frowns at the image. She's beautiful as ever, but her clothes are so dark. She's practically a shadow, like she could fade away with the slightest change in the light. He's not sure if she's really there.

Marissa catches his expression. "What's wrong?"

He's not sure if he should say this or not. "Why are you all in black?" he asks her cautiously.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, your hair is gorgeous, and you have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen, and you're such an artistic person. Every part of you screams "color," and today, you wear black. I'm just wondering why."

"My skirt's gray."

"You know what I mean."

Marissa shuffles her feet and self-consciously pulls her shirt down. She doesn't like secrets, especially with the people she cares about. She really tries to be honest. It's Cameron, anyway, so she might as well tell the truth. "Black is slimming."

Cameron takes a good look at his date's perfect (and he really means _perfect_) physique. He's never heard this kind of talk from her, and he doesn't like it one bit. "What?"

"Black is slimming," she mumbles. She shouldn't have said anything. She's looking at the concern on Cameron's face and she knows that he'll be watching her all the time now.

Cameron, for his part, is trying to get over the sheer ridiculousness of what Marissa has just said. "Are you kidding, Marissa? You don't need to be slimmed. You're freaking _gorgeous_!"

His outburst makes her smile and she momentarily forgets _why_ she felt the need to dress in black for her photoshoot today. "You...you think I'm pretty?" Her entire face and neck go bright red.

Cameron sighs. This wasn't exactly how he'd planned to tell her, but hey, whatever works. "I think you're beautiful, Marissa," he tells her genuinely.

They both look out over the lake, and after a while he suggests they both get going. They stroll through the park hand in hand, deciding that these photography dates should be a regular thing. As they near the exit, Cameron spies a perfectly-lit spot under an elm tree for one last photo, where the leaves in the background are still a brilliant green.

"Hey, wait a sec," Cameron calls as Marissa hails a taxi. "Sit on that bench over there. Let me take one more picture of you, to top it all off."

Marissa waves the taxi ahead and looks at the low wooden bench in front of the bike path. If she sits, it'll look like she has stomach rolls.

"Cam, we have enough headshots and full body shots to last me a whole year," she says quickly. "There has got to be something in that camera that we can use for my audition."

Cameron frowns. "Just one more. Please? For me."

Marissa rolls her eyes at the phrase Cameron uses whenever he wants something from her. She reluctantly sits down on the bench and fidgets and fusses with her skirt until she finally asks "Can I just stand?"

"If you want awkward shadows all over your face, then sure!" Cameron teases.

She readjusts in her seat and poses. At the last minute, she pulls her left leg up and wraps her arms around her tan boot. She thinks it makes her look vulnerable, so she'll be considered for younger parts. She also thinks of shielding her midsection.

Cameron is surprised by the difference that her small change in position makes. She looks nothing like the Marissa who stole his glasses minutes ago. Now she's quiet, demure – the Marissa he met on the first day of school but didn't sit with at lunch. The ferocity she adopts when she sings is completely absent from her expression. It actually scares Cameron a little.

"Could you smile?" he asks pathetically.

Marissa gives a halfhearted smile, but she doesn't mean it. Cameron looks at her through his camera, adjusting the lens over and over to get the zoom right. She stares at him with gray eyes. He's perfect. He's nerdy and cool at the same time. He can wear tight black jeans, a button-down collared shirt, a _cardigan_, and glasses that he doesn't need and make it look like the next big thing. He's caring and artsy and he plays guitar...

_Click. _Cameron takes Marissa's picture.

...and she's not good enough for him.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note<em>

_Thank you for taking the time to read my story! What I'd like you to know: each chapter title is that of a song that reflects the mood of the chapter. I really encourage listening to it at the end of each chapter – I've made sure they're all really good songs! The same goes for the title of the story, "Pictures of You," by The Last Goodnight. This chapter's inspiration: "Superboy and the Invisible Girl" from Next to Normal_.

_This story started to form in my mind over the summer when I saw the archive of photos on Marissa's MySpace page. The first one I saw is described at the end of this chapter (and I hope you look for it because it makes all the difference in reading this). I had to write the story behind her expression. She's very much like myself, so that's rather easy. And also incredibly difficult. Anyway..._

_Yes, it took me months to write this chapter, so I apologize for the slow updates to come! I'm thinking this story will be about five chapters long, and I'm pretty sure of where it will go. It's really only about Cameron and Marissa, but in order for me to post it here and not break the rules, I'm going to have to write in a cameo or two by some Glee characters. If you have suggestions for how to do that, vote on the poll on my profile and/or leave a review!_

_Finally, if you ever feel that I have portrayed anorexia the wrong way, please let me know in a review or private message. I want to be as accurate and sensitive as possible._


	2. I'm Like a Bird

Chapter 2 – I'm Like a Bird

She's agitated and flushed from her ballet class, and apparently no amount of steam can make her relax.

Marissa closes her eyes and sticks her head out of the bathroom window, inhaling the crisp October air and hoping that it's freshness will bring her some peace of mind.

The beautiful weather doesn't match her mood – she figures there should be something more akin to a tempest of biblical proportions outside her apartment, instead of the placid sunshine and cloudless skies that meet her vision when she finally opens her eyes. The inviting yellow light contrasts with the white, artificial glow of the fluorescent bulbs in the bathroom ceiling, and Marissa finds herself wishing she could transform into a bird and leave her life behind.

What kind of bird would she be? She'd like to be something loud and confident, like a bird of paradise, but in reality, she's probably more of a hummingbird. Colorful, efficient, mostly silent. Cameron calls her a blackbird every once in a while, because of the song. Marissa re-applies dark eyeliner as a memory rushes through the cracks in her mental barrier.

* * *

><p><em>He's gawky and spastic, the uninterested coffee house audience making him uncomfortable. Marissa smiles supportively from their table by the window and sips her hot chocolate, making sure to get whipped cream on her nose just so Cameron will smile. It doesn't make sense that the more outgoing half of the pair is terrified to be onstage, while the quieter one has a voice that carries to the back rows of a theater without enhancement. Unlike her friend, Marissa has grown up performing, so she's mostly immune to stage fright. Cameron, on the other hand, has been standing paralyzed onstage with his guitar for a full minute. <em>

_High school is kicking their asses. Cameron was introduced to the concept of detention on Wednesday, even though the pacifist didn't say a word when that jock called him gay and wouldn't let it go. Marissa's classmates – who usually just ignore her – have been especially cruel, and if she hears the word "ginger" one more time, she's sure she'll break into a million pieces._

_This was supposed to be their "Thank-God-We-Made-It-to-Friday" relaxation hangout, and she feels guilty for pushing Cameron into this after the week they've had. Yet the feeling quickly melts away when he snaps out of his trance to drawl, "This is dedicated to my best friend, Marissa. Don't let freshman year get you down."_

_The audience perks up to grin at the supreme cuteness of the fourteen-year-old toothpick in front of them. Some people turn to get a look at Marissa, who blushes a deep scarlet. Cameron picks out a familiar sequence of notes on his guitar and sings. _

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly  
>Into the light of a dark black night<p>

_Touched, Marissa says "thank you" in sign language – something she's been teaching herself – and listens as the last lines of her song float away and mix with the clinks of glasses and happy chatter of patrons. _

Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
>Take these broken wings and learn to fly<br>All your life  
>You were only waiting for this moment to arise<p>

* * *

><p>Marissa rests her arms on the windowsill and gazes at the blue infinity in front of her, wishing she could lose herself in the memory instead of worrying about the present.<p>

Cameron must be convinced she's perfect – he's told her so before. He tells her she's beautiful and strong, and it saddens Marissa to think of how little he knows about her. She's not strong, and she's not beautiful.

In the month they've been dating, it's become painfully obvious to her that their days as a couple are numbered. He's just too good for her. He assumes these things about her that she had hoped after three years he would understand. She can be beautiful _onstage_, she can be strong _onstage_. But once she's cut off from her power source – the lights and applause – it's a different story. She's soft-spoken and a little insecure, and Cameron doesn't get that because he's _him_. He's Mr. Nerd Herd. He took something that should have made his high school experience miserable and turned it into a brand.

When she let him in, they showed each other everything. _She_ revealed everything about herself. All her insecurities, her dreams, and ambitions were laid out in front of him. But for every flaw in her character, she agonizes that he's bound to look for someone who can live up to him.

_I'm not good enough_.

On that dreary note, the doorbell rings; Cameron's picking Marissa up for another photography date to take more shots for her auditions. She hurriedly slams down the window, runs downstairs, and answers the door. She smiles despite her blue demeanor when she sees Cameron at her door – all thick glasses and plaid.

"Hey, Cam," Marissa says, instantly crossing an arm over her waist. She doesn't like him staring at her anymore. She used to blush when she felt his eyes on her; now she mostly just wants to cover herself up. She's determined not to let him see any more of her imperfections, at least not the ones she can control.

"Why are you in a sweater?"

Marissa shifts her gaze to her leopard-print pointy-toed heels. He already doesn't like the way she looks.

"Fine, thanks; how are you?" she mumbles, trying and failing to sound sarcastic.

Cameron speaks softly, obviously picking up on her mood. "No, I mean, you look wonderful, but it's sixty-something degrees out. You'll melt." His Converse sneakers slide this way and that, and Marissa can't help but smile at this adorable quirk. He never could stand still for long.

"Is it really?" she asks. "It's freezing inside."

"Yeah, it is," Cameron stumbles, still too bewildered to form a longer sentence. He runs a hand through his mess of ashy blond hair. "If you want to change, I'll wait for you."

Marissa hugs her waist a little harder. Does that mean he _wants_ her to change? It has to. They've known each other for over three years...he was bound to get bored with her eventually.

Since when does her mind think this way?

Cameron just looks at her. "Marissa?"

She realizes that her internal monologue has taken about eight seconds – an awfully long time to go without speaking.

Anyway, he's talking about her clothes, and not her.

Marissa tugs nervously at the sleeves of her green sweater. "Do you think I should change?" she asks, deciding to play it by ear.

Cameron tilts his head to the side, pretending to analyze her entire ensemble. He takes a picture of her and grins. "Nah, I think you're fine," he says breezily. Marissa attempts to smile. He flips his camera over in his hands. "Let's head out."

"Central Park?"

"Always," he calls as he strides to the corner and hails a cab.

She's glad it's Central Park. Their photoshoots used to be simple and carefree, but lately, she's been stressing out about them. She needs the right outfit. She needs the perfect makeup. She needs the figure.

Central Park puts Marissa at ease. There's something calming about the leaves and the fountains and the grass that makes her forget about whatever's going on in her life. If she needs a breath of fresh air, she heads straight for Belvedere Castle. For peace and quiet in the sun, Sheep's Meadow is perfect. If she's in the mood to fill her head with music so loud she forgets who she is...well, there's always music in Central Park.

Today, Marissa just needs to think. She knows Cameron is wondering why she wants new photos. Auditions for her high school's production of _RENT: School Edition_ are tomorrow, and she's shooting for the lead, Mimi. Her father was in the chorus of _La Boheme _at Lincoln Center when Marissa was in third grade, and she fell in love with Mimi the moment the actress stepped onstage. She was beautiful, with delicate features and a thin frame. She enchanted her Rodolphe and the entire audience. Marissa decided right then and there, at age nine, that she would play that part.

She learned later on that she did not have an opera voice. But she had a powerhouse "contemporary" voice, which led her straight to _RENT_. Okay, so she's not Latina. But is it really that important to the part?

Now the opportunity is finally right in front of her, and years of acting, singing, and dancing lessons haven't given her the peace of mind to think she has the part in the bag. She's good. She's really good, but – as always – she might not be good enough. And for some bizarre reason, the director wants headshots to go with auditions, so Marissa's need to be perfect, and her old ones weren't.

Which, on top of everything else she's dealing with, is a lot of pressure on a seventeen-year-old girl.

She's so anxious that she doesn't say a word for the whole ride to the park. It's pretty easy to pull off, since she usually doesn't say much anyway. Besides, Cameron just got a new camera. All she needs to do is mention the new lens once, and his inner nerd takes over. He spends the perilous ten minutes talking about megapixels or something, while Marissa wonders what song she should sing for her audition. She nods every so often, and Cameron never suspects a thing.

By the time the taxi screeches to a halt at the curb, Cameron's in his own little world, going on and on about the differences between a Nikon and a Kodak. He pauses only long enough to pay the man before pulling Marissa deep into the park. She's relieved when Cameron takes her to her "thinking spot": a secluded, elevated section of Central Park that not many people bother to visit. It's quiet and peaceful, and it's just what she needs.

She's extremely depressed when her special place doesn't make her feel any better about anything. The trees aren't colorful enough, the birds aren't loud enough, the sun isn't warm enough to lift her spirits. Disappointed, she plops down on a bench and exhales deeply, hugging her knees and making herself as small as possible.

Behind her, Cameron eyes her worriedly.

What the heck happened at that ballet class to make her so tired? And why is she in such heavy clothes on a day like this? She's usually so comfortable with him, too, and the one-word answers and distant nods he's been getting from her all day are freaking him out a little. This is the Marissa he's only caught glimpses of, the girl who used to beg him to go out of his way to walk to her next class so there was less of a chance someone would slushie her. If she's regressing back to that – something needs to be done.

He looks through his new camera (a Nikon!) at Marissa, who has moved from the bench to lean pathetically against the guide rail.

Maybe she needs a hug.

Wrapped up in her own apprehension, only the tree matters to Marissa right now. Just this tree and the Evanescence song that's shaping up to be the soundtrack of her life. She's caught off-guard when Cameron sneaks up behind her and puts his arm around her shoulders, but she's too distracted for her skin to register the shock of electricity his touch usually sends through her body. "Don't," she mumbles, brushing him off. She looks up at the ceiling of branches, out at the skyline, _anywhere_, just so she doesn't have to look at him.

In doing so she misses his injured expression, his shoulders hunching in as if trying to fold into himself like a road map. He steps back slightly and hangs his camera around his neck. Enough pictures.

For the second time today, he treads lightly. "What's wrong?"

Marissa's eyes are gray and distant. "I'm not feeling well."

Cameron frowns, as if not understanding what she means. "What's wrong?" he tries once more, but he's careful not to try to touch her again.

Gray eyes. That's all she is. No red hair, no green sweater, no color, no chimes in her voice when she avoids answering his question for the second time. "I'm just tired from class. I need to go home. Sorry."

Why is she apologizing?

"It's fine," he assures her. "Let's go." He begins pulling taxi money out of his back pocket.

"No," she says faster than Cameron previously thought possible. "I mean...I think I just need to be alone."

Oh.

Marissa is already on her way down the path as he calls, "See you Monday." He can't decide if it's a question or not.

Without his date and model, Cameron sees no reason to stay in the park. He walks to the exit playing what just occurred over and over in his mind.

He's halfway to his apartment before he realizes this is the first time they've gone home in separate cabs.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter title: "I'm Like a Bird" by Nelly Furtado<br>Featured song: "Blackbird" by the Beatles_

_Author's Note_

[AUTHOR enters website, furtively looks around]

AUTHOR: Anybody here?

_Hi guys! Miss me? I am so sorry for the incredibly late update! As you can see by my list of stories, I got sidetracked more than a few times. I also wrote the beginning of this chapter from Cameron's perspective several times over before changing it to Marissa's point of view, and I really like the way it turned out. This is a transition chapter – it's more exposition than actual events. More things will happen later!_

_This story was originally going to be a series of one-shots describing different photography dates between the two, but it was really hard to get a plot going when there wasn't a lot going on. So I'm introducing _RENT: School Edition._ I have most of it cast – and thanks to those of you who voted on the poll on my profile (psst...it's still open!). Any guesses as to who the director is? _

_This story has over 350 hits (yay!) and 6 reviews...can we try to even out that number? Pretty please? Thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially **RidiculousGleek **__for that wonderful confidence-booster. Made my day. _

_Also, very special thank you's go to all my friends who read this story and responded with such enthusiasm. It took a lot of guts to let anyone read this, and I'm so glad it was you first. Thanks for providing plot suggestions, song titles, and being the best support system ever. Love you guys!_

_I will sincerely attempt to update this faster than last time. Will you still be interested in this, if I take just as long?_


	3. I Know Him So Well

Chapter 3 – I Know Him So Well

It's Monday.

The skinny boy practically jumps out of skin and his bed at the sound of alarm clock, his long legs saving him from face-planting on the floor or his room. He wanders groggily to the window – pointless, since there's barely any light – and vaguely remembers a feeling of concern from the night before.

_Marissa_, he thinks as his mind organizes his memories. Right – Marissa wasn't feeling well, so much so that she had gone home early, without him. She hasn't answered any of his texts, either, which worries him a little. Maybe she needs to take it easy on the dance classes. Or maybe it's just nerves. Marissa isn't really prone to stage fright, but Mimi is a big part in _RENT_, or so he's been told. He really doesn't know the show that well yet. Promising himself she's fine, he glances out the window at the city coming to life.

The sun is...well, it's not exactly _shining_, but it's there somewhere. No grass, but the pavement's looking awfully luminous today. There aren't any birds around, but his cell's ringtone could be described as a chirp if he tried.

...So it's not exactly a day that screams "optimism," but he'll take what he can get.

It's audition day.

Not that that means much for Cameron, but every thespian, theater geek, choir member, dancer, musician, and tech operator will be wound tight enough to cut off school circulation during free period. And he's going to be there for Marissa every step of the way. Grinning to himself, he opens the closet and selects a pair of very slim jeans (which may or not be from the girls' department), a blue plaid shirt, and his favorite white sweater.

"CAM," his mom groans from her bedroom when his phone goes off again. Wincing, he opens his cell.

**Hey dude. Girls auditions today. Marissa trying out? I'm a.d.!**

He smiles. As if there was ever any doubt Artie would be the assistant director. Cameron's long, calloused fingers tap on the buttons of his keypad.

**Congrats specs! Marissa's auditioning and getting the part. Educate me in all things "rent" today**

Speaking of specs, where are his? He overturns piles of books and clothes in his room, shuffling around homework and old tests before finding them under a physics assignment he hasn't done yet. Oh, well, it's not due until tomorrow. He trudges to the bathroom with his clothes and slips his glasses over his small nose. His face looks significantly better this way; complete, like the guy version of makeup. His phone rings, playing a frustratingly shrill tone and prompting another warning from his mother._ Gotta change that_.

**Rent's...interesting. Not usually done in hs. Be warned.**

That's not very promising, but Cameron ignores this in favor of texting Marissa.

**Morning blackbird. Break a leg today**

She doesn't respond, even as the sun rises higher in the sky and Mr. Martinez confiscates his phone after the Pledge of Allegiance.

* * *

><p>"Watch it!" snaps a particularly grating senior as Marissa collides with her. Both girls' possessions are sent flying. "You almost tipped over Spice!" she continues, petting the dog in her purse, which, Marissa is pretty sure, shouldn't be in school anyway.<p>

_Sugar and Spice? Really?_

"Sorry, Sugar, I –"

"You will be when I get the lead today!" Her voice is helium-infused. "Sorry, Asperger's!" Sugar flips her hair and leaves, totally oblivious to the plaintive tone in the other girl's voice.

Marissa watches her go. "I had someone else on my mind."

Carefully kneeling in her black, belted mini dress, she picks up her sheet music binder and collects the various marble notebooks off the sneaker-scuffed floor. It's a good excuse to sit and relieve her aching legs, sore from too much time _en pointe_ yesterday. A wheelchair stops just short of rolling over her fingers.

"Damn, she is _fine_," Artie marvels at Sugar's retreating backside.

"She's pretty, I'll give you that," Marissa sighs, distracted. She gathers her remaining materials and finds one of Sugar's many charm bracelets among them. Still on the ground, she reaches up and hands it to Artie. "An excuse to talk to her," she says with a small smile.

Artie pockets it eagerly. "Thanks, Marissa!" He gazes at the redhead vigorously rubbing a knot out of her calf. Noticing her nervous demeanor, he asks, "Hey, you've got lunch with us guys, right?"

"Yeah."

He looks at the vacated hallway. "I'll catch you in there, alright? Then I'll see you at auditions. Break a leg!" He rolls away, leaving Marissa leaning against a locker, having not moved from her place on the floor.

"Thanks," she calls. She finds her cell phone – the cause of her encounter with Sugar – under her AP Euro textbook and rereads what she was concentrating on earlier.

**How are you feeling?  
><strong>-15 hours ago

**Morning blackbird. Break a leg today  
>-<strong>four hours ago

There has only been a handful of times when Marissa didn't answer a text from Cameron. One was when he texted too late and she was already onstage with the Concert Choir. Another time, she had the stomach flu. Once, her mom was in the middle of reading her the riot act over her messy room and actually threatened bodily harm if Marissa so much as looked at her cell phone.

In other words, all very legitimate reasons. This time, she just doesn't know what to say.

She's gotten tons of these messages from him before. She can practically see him right now, coolly tapping out a message, not even feeling the buttons through the guitar callouses on his fingers. She knows what each abbreviation means; she knows the emotion behind each change in punctuation.

She knows that he exceeds in math classes and can't draw to save his life. She knows he can't stand still for more than a few minutes. She knows that he loves the Beatles and Coldplay and once sang N*Sync on a karaoke machine. He cranks classical music at night and he's terrified of bees.

Marissa _knows_ Cameron. In and out, backwards and forwards, like her favorite copy of _The Five People You Meet in Heaven_.

So what's changed?

Suddenly she's not comfortable around him, even though he's exactly the same. They transitioned so seamlessly from best friends to couple that Marissa didn't have any time to think. She didn't think she _needed_ time to think. And now she spends all her time panicking over being good enough to keep him. She's paying more attention to her hair than she ever did before, and she hasn't answered two of his texts _in a row_.

But what scares her the most is that she's losing the ability to picture them together as a couple (even when they are one). She sees Cameron with a beautiful girl he deserves, and the girl isn't her.

Because the last time she saw him, he said she looked fine. She's only "fine" the way she is. So maybe he's changed a little bit, too.

Finding a compact mirror in her book bag, she examines herself like a director would. Red hair carefully molded into loose waves, satisfactory eye makeup, deep red lipstick, giant fish-shaped medallion...maybe she went a bit too far with the lucky jewelry.

Since her lipstick matches the color of her tights, Marissa decides to simplify the rest of her look and takes off her necklace. And since it's all she can do, she's forced to accept that this is as good as it's going to get. Which is actually pretty decent, except for the fact that her cheeks are so flushed they _also _match her red tights.

She fans herself as she makes her way to the cafeteria, trying to calm herself down. At this rate, if she makes eye contact with Cameron once, she'll break down. She doesn't want to do that.

Marissa hasn't seen Cameron yet today – thankfully it's the schedule where they don't meet until lunch – and she's managed to avoid the cafeteria so far, but she's talked to every teacher and gotten every book from her locker and fixed her makeup in the bathroom already, so there's only a few minutes left before free period and she can't avoid him any longer.

She sees him from her hideout at the doorway, surrounded by Artie and three members of the Jazz Band at their standard table in the center of the cafeteria. Cameron's sitting with his long legs awkwardly splayed across another plastic chair. He's saving her seat, just like they've always done for each other.

* * *

><p>"<em>You look very relaxed."<em>

_Marissa looks up from lunch with _The Five People You Meet in Heaven_ at the cute nerd towering over her. He has a soft voice and speaks with a pleasant drawl that blends some of his words together. Without moving, she says, "I'm saving the seat for a friend," but can't bring herself to go back to her book just yet._

_The boy smiles and shuffles his feet. "Who?"_

_She's not used to conversations with total strangers, but she answers anyway. "Harmony Xander. You might not know her –"_

"_Loud retro girl you sang the national anthem with at orientation? She's in my music class."_

_Marissa almost snorts with laughter. "Harmony in a music class...how's that going?"_

_He takes on an air of propriety. "While I appreciate Miss Xander's efforts, the importance of Ethel Merman to the history of the Broadway stage is not particularly my cup of tea."_

"_That good, huh?"_

_He runs a hand through his bushy hair. "That good. So, can I sit down?"_

"_I'm saving it for Harmony!" she says, blushing for no reason at all._

"_And she's over there because...?"_

_Her eyes follow where the boy is pointing, and she spies Harmony three tables away, deep in conversation with a thin, creatively-dressed boy in a John Lennon cap. "Huh." Marissa swings her legs off one chair and adjusts the way her blue tunic falls over her leggings. Making eye contact through his thick black glasses, she gestures for the boy to sit. _

"_Thanks," he says, accepting the empty seat. His foot bumps hers and they both pull away. "You know, you're a –"_

"_If you say 'ginger,' I'm picking another table," she warns._

"_No, no. I mean...you have really nice hair, but I meant...uh..."_

_Marissa cracks a smile. He starts over. "I just meant you're a really good singer."_

_She feels her ears redden. "Thank you."_

"_Rough day?" the boy asks._

_Marissa's lips curl up coyly without her knowledge. "So far. Who wants to know?"_

_The boy tugs on his sweater lapels and straightens his back. He offers his hand. "Cameron, at your service, my lady."_

_She thinks for a moment, then takes it. His hand is rough, but incredibly warm over hers. "Marissa, kind sir. Thank you for rescuing me from the brink of loneliness."_

_They break down in a fit of laughter._

* * *

><p>Taking a deep breath and sending a silent prayer that they'll both be able to stand afterward, she enters the cafeteria.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Chapter title: "I Know Him So Well" from <em>Chess _(I'm partial to the Idina Menzel/Kerry Ellis version, but the Whitney Houston one is very good, too)_

_Author's Note_

_I could have put the rest of the scene in this chapter and made it longer, but I wanted to (1) let you know I'm alive and (2) continuing with this story until it's finished, and (3) keep you all in suspense, mwah-ah-ah. Also, remember when I said that this story would be about five chapters long? Well it's Chapter 3 and we don't even have a cast for _RENT_, so just forget about that :) Hopefully I'll move faster now that its summer, but I have internships and a job search lined up, so maybe not, actually. So you guys are in this for the long haul. Thanks for sticking around, everyone! _

_P.S. Cue entrance of _Glee_ characters! I'm writing this as if all the canon seniors (Rachel, Finn, etc.) have graduated and the underclassmen moved up. So Artie is a senior, Sugar is a senior, and let's pretend Harmony is a senior like I thought she was at the beginning of the season. It'll also be extremely AU as I'm just erasing certain characters from existence (sorry, Blaine fans – he's just too perfect) and obviously adding my own._

_I'm planning on making characters for a few _TGP: Season 2_ contestants as well, so vote in the new poll on my profile and give me some ideas! Reviews are lovely!_

_P.P.S. Also, even though this is set in McKinley (if McKinley is in New York City), I'm taking _Glee _kids from all different schools that have been on the show (ex. Harmony), and doing the same with faculty members, just so you have sort of an idea of what's coming._


	4. Breathe

Chapter 4 – Breathe

Cameron hears the whole thing as if Marissa's at the other end of the table and he doesn't want to intrude. In fact, she might as well be talking to someone else, because she hasn't made eye contact with him once. Part of him wants to leave like Artie, who quietly excuses himself to set up for auditions in a few minutes.

It's not like Cam wants to hear what she has to say, anyway.

But he doesn't leave. Doesn't move at all, actually. It may be the longest he's stood still...ever.

Instead he focuses on her face. She looks so supremely different when she's upset – it's like she's a separate person.

Although, he has to say, she portrays sadness beautifully. Even her posture spells _sincerity. _She's obviously trying very hard to keep her composure, with one arm tightly wrapped around her waist, the other holding her music binder and a stack of marble notebooks. A deep pink flush covers her cheeks, reaching to just under her eyes. The eyes she won't let him see for anything.

He steps forward to pull her into a reassuring hug, to let her know that he won't accept anything she's saying, that whatever he did to cause this he'll fix because that's what best-friends-slash-couples do. She steps back. Why won't she let him near her? Usually, _he's_ the one who's shy with physical contact. Marissa's always the first to lean in, the first to wrap his arm around her, the first to playfully mess Cameron's hair. Even before they were dating, that was just the way it was.

She turns her head then, seeming to notice everyone in the cafeteria for the first time. Jackson, Drew, and Miles are visibly uncomfortable while trying not to be rude, and a group of girls one table over blatantly stares at the pair. Without turning back to him, Marissa grabs Cameron's wrist and rushes out of the room. Her soft hand fits well over his bony wrist, but she's shaking so much that she lets go once they're in the empty hallway.

Unsure of what to do or say – he just doesn't want to make her more upset – Cameron shoves his hands in his pockets. Marissa keeps talking, but slower now, like she's gotten to the root of it all and can't get the words out.

He may not hear what she has to say, but he hears the break in her voice. That split-second hitch in her breathing. _Pleasepleasedon'tcry..._

Oh, God.

She looks at him then, and he knows. He finally gets to really, really look at Marissa. His best friend Marissa, his unofficial girlfriend. Her eyes, red and puffy, gently brim with tearsthat give a sheen to gray irises, like the color drained out of them during her speech which he didn't hear.

But he knows.

It's over.

* * *

><p>Marissa propels herself into the auditorium out of sheer will, her knees threatening to buckle with every step.<p>

It was for the best.

Really, all she did was beat him to the punch. She's about to completely give herself up to the winter musical; she can't take a heartbreak. If he was going to leave sooner or later then she might as well beat him to it. She'll just be alone for awhile. It's something she should be fairly used to – friends, club members, and now boys.

Boy.

_Don't think about Cameron!_

Her legs keep moving.

Sugar's onstage, belting (shouting?) her rendition of "Big Spender." Her voice isn't exactly what Marissa _responds to_, but the girl's got confidence to spare. That's probably what has Artie drooling over her every word.

Marissa signs in with Ms. Corcoran, vaguely registers two men she's never seen before, and settles into a seat, somewhat separated from the rest of the girls. The auditorium (officially the April Rhodes Civic Pavilion) is actually pretty state-of-the-art, especially compared to the horror stories Marissa's heard from her cousin in New Jersey. She guesses that there's no way to ignore the arts in New York, and for that she will always be grateful. The sight of the red velvet curtain, fully-functional stage lights, and fabric seats (not fold-out) makes Marissa feel a little better.

Regardless, she wipes at her eyes and soaks a few tissues in the process. Ignoring the whispers and sidelong glances, she opens her music binder. It's bursting at the seams with sheet music – Broadway, pop, R&B, even a song she's translating from German – and at this point it's being held together with Scotch tape and rubber bands. She makes a mental note to buy a new one.

_What do you do now; what happens to your friendship?_

Marissa forces her mind to her solo, a twenties-style power balled originally sung by Idina Menzel. It's a risk, since it's not really in the "rock opera" style of the show. If she had it her way, she'd just sing "Out Tonight" and be done with it, but there's an unwritten rule in the theatre to never audition with a song from the show being casted. It adds a layer of arrogance to the performance if you're assuming you'll be singing that exact song in a week.

"Hi, my name is Harmony Elsie Xander, I'm auditioning for the role of Maureen Johnson, and I'll be singing 'Take Me or Leave Me' from _RENT._"

Case in point.

As the brassy, self-proclaimed star takes center stage, Marissa good-naturedly rolls her eyes. She's managed to maintain a quasi-friendship with Harmony, since they've taken practically all the same classes since freshman year and keep getting forced together this year as senior members of the choir. They're familiar enough that Marissa goes to see her in the musicals every year, enough to collaborate on numbers for the choir showcases, enough to smile at each other from their separate tables in the cafeteria.

_Of course, you may very well be sitting with Harmony from now on._

It always felt like there was potential to be close to the tiny brunette, but she's just…a little much sometimes. There's something off about her that Marissa can't quite put her finger on, like Harmony's trying too hard to get everyone to believe she's genuine, and it comes off as doubly fake.

To her credit, though, as soon as she opens her mouth, Marissa's sure Harmony will get the part. Her voice is clearly trained, and she's got the sort of kooky, almost neurotic need for attention that Maureen requires. She's as good as cast.

Marissa's phone vibrates loudly in her purse, and she opens it surreptitiously. **You okay?** She glances a few seats over at Tina, who casts her a meaningful look.

Marissa looks away. **Why?** she sends, for lack of a better response.

**Aylin witnessed ur...breakup? Not long til it gets to the rest of the cast :( Do I need to go all vampire on him? Cuz I WILL.**

When Harmony finishes and excuses herself with a flourish, Marissa looks up expectantly, waiting for her name to be called.

**That's sweet, but no. My choice. **She slides her phone shut. End of discussion, for now.

_New York's big – it shouldn't be _that_ hard to avoid him._

"Lily Mae?"

Marissa exhales and flips through her music again, rereading her annotations and checking places to breathe. She doesn't know Lily at all, except for that shocked surprise she feels every time Lily challenges Ms. Corcoran in Choir. But Marissa's watched Lily have it out with Harmony a few times in the school productions (every year the planets align and cast them as women who hate each other, just to make things easier for all involved), and she's good.

As she sings she flirts with Brad, playing up her sizable curves. He smiles good-naturedly and continues to play, never missing a beat.

_I'm the Gypsy - the acid queen  
>Pay before we start<br>I'm the Gypsy - I'm guaranteed  
>To break your little heart<em>

Oh, man. Forget ruining a friendship, what if Marissa completely broke Cameron's heart? Wasn't he going to break hers sooner or later? She doesn't want to think about this. She goes back to the performance.

Lily is a phenomenal singer, but here's hoping she doesn't get Mimi like she wants. Though, Marissa doesn't really want to picture her reaction if that happens. It's hard to place Lily in _RENT_, actually. Maureen, maybe? Over Harmony? Yikes. Marissa doesn't want to see that reaction either.

If they really were casting the show by personality, then Marissa would be Mark, not Mimi. Because Mark is the good one. The safe bet. He's likable enough, but his story is never as thrilling as Mimi and Roger's.

_What about the four classes you have with him?_

_Forget about thinking that far ahead - what about next period?_

_Will he ever look at you the same way?_

_Why didn't he _say_ anything?_

When she left, why didn't he follow her?

_FOCUS!_

Marissa rubs her temples. She is actually, literally, giving herself a headache.

No more playing it safe. No more avoiding the musicals for fear or a slushie or a sub-par performance. This time, Marissa's going for a role so unlike herself, there'll be no room for safe bets. She's going to throw herself into this part if she gets it, and maybe some of Mimi's confidence will rub off on her. That's the real goal here, right?

Ms. Corcoran's voice echoes through the auditorium. "Marissa?"

_Thank God. _Acting mask on, Marissa strides over to the piano and hands her sheet music to Brad and her headshot and resume to Artie, who gives her a supportive smile. Would he still, if he knew what just happened? As she steps onstage, the spotlight bathes her in invisible power and she feels more courageous than she is. Her words from not fifteen minutes ago briefly flash in her mind, mixing with the sound of the pianist testing out the chords.

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm sorry, Cam, I'm so sorry...I just...I just, I can't<em>."

_The bell rings, causing her to jump and break eye contact. Marissa's "keep your composure" plan has long since deteriorated, and she can't stop the delicate sob that escapes when Cameron doesn't say or do __anything. He just looks at her with the most unreadable expression. But what had she expected, really?_

_As the hallway fills with students, she leaves. _

_Runs._

* * *

><p><em>She makes the mistake of turning back. Only once, but she turns. And he's already gone. <em>

* * *

><p>She's Mimi now, perfectly capable of being alone. Not needing anyone else.<p>

_But it was nice, wasn't it?_

Her use of past tense sends her already-jack-hammering heart into overdrive. The reality of it all nearly knocks the breath right out of her; not a good thing before a musical audition. _**That's sweet, but no. My choice.**_

_What did I do?_

"What are you singing for us?" Ms. Corcoran asks, all business.

Marissa snaps out of it and looks the musical director right in the eye. This will definitely be her most authentic performance to date. "I'll be singing 'The Life of the Party,' from Andrew Lippa's _The Wild Party_."

Brad plays the opening chords, and Marissa unloads everything into a belt so powerful she could take down the curtain behind her.

_Who needs lovers  
><em>_Not I  
><em>_Who needs heaven above  
><em>_Don't have time for things unsaid  
><em>_For breaking bread  
><em>_For love_

With the spotlight holding her up, Marissa stands firm. So what if she's using the song to convince herself more than the audience?

Ms. Corcoran and her cronies lean in with interest, and Marissa soaks it up. The amount of fierceness seething through her body would be toxic to pretty much any other human alive. She's flirtatious, she's daring, she's out-of-herself, and it's exhilarating to be and enthralling to watch.

_All I need is time to fight  
><em>_Hand in fisted glove_

She slowly reaches a hand above her head and clenches it around her heart.

_Point me to the sky  
><em>_It's my turn to fly_

* * *

><p><em>Chapter title: "Breathe" by Taylor Swift (that's for one of my best friends, a true Swiftie who's been with this story from the beginning. Sorry it's a downer!)<em>

_Featured songs: "Take Me or Leave Me" from _RENT_, "The Acid Queen" from _Tommy_, and "The Life of the Party" from _The Wild Party. _(I highly suggest you listen to all of these, especially the last one.)_

_Author's Note_

_I'm sorry I had to do that! That first scene is the reason for the five-month delay. I could not figure out how to get it on paper. So I decided to cheat a little and use virtually no dialogue. Did I get the point across okay? Too melodramatic? I can't decide how I feel about it, but I wanted to go ahead and get this chapter up because I'm in two shows that open within the next two weeks, so no writing will happen for a little while. How did it work? Please, review and let me know what you think of this chapter! _

_Speaking of, thank you to everyone who reviewed and added this to Favorite Stories and Story Alert, especially **Gracieling **and **TealCrystalCAT**. I love bouncing ideas off you guys. Also, thanks to **Gracieling **for suggesting like, four characters to include in this story, saving me from plot holes, and generally making this better._

_I hope everyone can make the distinctions among flashbacks, internal thoughts, texts, and flashback texts. If it gets too distorted, I'll find another way to do that. For some one-shots on the Jazz Band (Jackson, Drew, and Miles), head over to my profile and look at "Placeholders." For the backstory I'll mostly be using for Harmony, read "Hex Girl." And we've begun integration of TGP2 characters, and there's more on the way! Thanks for voting on my poll, and now you can fantasy-cast _RENT _until I write the next chapter. Hope everyone's summer (or whatever season it is, for the international readers) is going well :) Arrivederci!_


	5. Hello, Goodbye

Chapter 5 – Hello, Goodbye

In exactly one week, Cameron's mindset has successfully progressed from "What the Hell Just Happened" to "What the Hell Happened a Week Ago." That's pretty much all his brain can hold right now.

"Tell me what you think of Okonkwo's participation in Ikemefuna's death."

It doesn't really help that his AP Lit class is reading a book called _Things Fall Apart_.

Brain completely fried, Cameron starts doodling on his loose leaf. Stars and circles and stripes and stuff are much more appealing than this lesson right now.

As his classmates stumble over the characters' names, Cam tries to sneak a look at Marissa. She looks like she hasn't moved for the whole period, intently taking notes without looking up. Cameron sighs.

She gave him no explanation. None. No "I want to date other people," no "I don't have time anymore; let's be best friends again." He would have taken an "I actually hate your guts" as long as it shed a little light on the situation. Nope. He got "I can't."

What is that?

They might as well have gone all Ross and Rachel and said "let's take a break." Cameron winces. Maybe not that explosive.

Right now, he figures she just needs space. So that's how the week has been.

…spacious.

Mrs. Pennington, their unfailingly supportive teacher, coaxes the unresponsive class. "Come on, guys! Even if you skipped the reading, just tell me what you think. How are we interpreting the murder scene?"

Tina raises her hand on the other side of the circle of desks. "Well, I think it's a sign of _weakness_," she says, with a hint of venom Cameron didn't think she was capable of.

Penny touches the tip of her pen to her lip. "Interesting, Tina. Elaborate for us."

The girl takes a deep breath in a way the creeps Cameron out. "Okay, so, Okonkwo knew Ikemefuna for three years. He loves the kid. Then the Oracle declares that he has to die, but Okonkwo isn't allowed participate in the killing. Which should be good. But then he murders Ikemefuna anyway. And for _what?_ So he doesn't look _weak _in front of his peers?" She narrows her eyes. "I think not showing you care about someone is pretty much the _weakest thing there is._"

Cameron drops his pen.

He tries to keep his head down after retrieving it – there are only twelve students in this class and the consequently very small circle makes him claustrophobic. Everyone's staring at either (1) him; (2) Marissa, who concentrates very hard on her worksheet; or (3) Tina, who in turn is glaring directly at him.

Penny, who has no doubt heard all the background info already, just remarks, "Well put, Tina," and calmly moves on. Artie gives Cam a pat on the back.

This is what school for Cameron has become. Support from Artie, indirect verbal abuse from Tina, and the cold shoulder from Marissa.

He lets himself drift back into his doodle world, where his 2-D guitar is tangled in a smudged net of music notes and lyrics and random stripes. Hey, if he's going to have to reread these notes, he might as well make them vaguely interesting.

"Dude!" Artie whispers, chucking a balled-up piece of loose leaf at him.

Cameron looks up to find the class and Ms. Pennington staring at him again. "Sorry," he mumbles.

Slowly losing her patience, Penny asks him, "Do you have a counterargument for Tina's opinion of the murder scene?

Cameron gulps. "Um –"

_BRRRIIIIIIINNNGGGG!_

"I'll, uh, sleep on that, Penny!" he calls, throwing his supplies into his backpack and preparing to bolt. He's about to reach for the door when it whips open, smacking loudly against the wall.

"GUYS."

Aylin bursts into the classroom, out of breath. She runs for Marissa and Tina and almost crashes into them, but steadies herself at the last second and shoves her cell phone in their faces. "Lily just texted me."

Cameron glances at Artie, who nods knowingly. _Because that sentence never leads to anything good. _

"The cast list is going up."

* * *

><p>"I'm thinking maybe they'll combine all the ensemble parts into one and just cast me," Tina ponders as she pulls a textbook from her locker. Despite the wide hallways, all three girls press themselves up to the wall to avoid being run over by a stray, frantic freshman dashing to class.<p>

"Nice. Lock me out of a role, why don't you?" Aylin jokes.

Marissa's face drops. "Didn't you both audition for leads?" she asks. "Don't write yourselves off."

Tina good-naturedly rolls her eyes and crams two notebooks into her bag. "Yeah, well, I auditioned against Harmony, so we'll see how that goes."

"And I auditioned against _you_, so… ensemble it is!" exclaims the shorter girl in mock excitement.

"But you've both been part of the program since you were freshmen," Marissa argues. "I'm a senior and I'm just starting. That's bad, right? Plus, what about Lily? Maybe _she'll_ get Mimi and I'll hang out in the chorus with you guys."

Aylin shares a look with Tina. "Dude, were you _at_ your audition? You blew Lily out of the freakin' water!"

"Come on, I wasn't that good," Marissa humbly replies. But she smiles anyway.

Tina playfully nudges Marissa's shoulder. "You know you love it!"

"Yeah, well, we'll never know anything until we actually _get _to the Choir Room." Aylin shoves her head inside Tina's locker, standing on her toes to examine the top shelf. "It's only October – what the heck do you have to study for?"

Tina yanks the girl out, her flat tone rich with sarcasm. "The life of an AP student. Embrace it, fear it."

"Looks like senior year will be a blast."

"At least you're a year away," Marissa suggests hopefully. Growing anxious and not wanting to talk more about the world's most awkward Lit class, she shuts Tina's locker for her. "I'm with Aylin. Let's go check out the cast list."

Tina links arms with Marissa. "Yeah, we don't want to miss Lily throw a fit."

Aylin follows them down the hallway. "UGH, don't even get me started…"

Letting Aylin rant, Marissa marvels at how she's suddenly become inseparable with Tina. Sure, they were always friends, but they were wrapped up with their respective guys. At one point in sophomore year, their circles overlapped, with Cameron being best friends with Artie and all. After Artie and Tina's breakup, things got very complicated.

But now that Mike's in his first semester of college, and Marissa and Cameron are broken up, she and Tina seem to have gravitated to each other. In the aftermath of The Breakup, Marissa had been adopted by Tina's friends as "the newest sadomasochist to dive headfirst into the shark tank that is high school theatre."

That Gavroche, he's an interesting kid.

But he's really sweet. Actually, everyone is. It sort of makes Marissa wonder what else she's been missing.

And yet, when Aylin nearly tackled her and Tina in Lit, all Marissa wanted was to ask Cameron to wish her luck. It's been a week since they've even spoken. That hasn't happened since that one summer vacation when she was out of cell phone range. Two years ago.

What a mess.

She keeps thinking she should have said something more meaningful instead of the load of nonsense topped off with the mother of all cop-outs she gave him last week. It probably wouldn't matter, though – after all, it's not like he showed any signs of interest the first time. And it's not like anything she could have said instead would have sounded any better. _I don't see why you'd want to date me. Blow out your candles, Cameron, and so, goodbye!_ She's so pathetic sometimes. How can she explain that to him (or anyone) when she doesn't even understand it herself?

She's not given much more time to worry about it, though; because when she, Tina, and Aylin approach the Choir Room, they're met by, of all people, a jock with a slushy. Who zeroes in right on Marissa.

As the muscled boy steps forward with a giant orange Big Gulp and Marissa brandishes her math binder as a shield, several things happen at once. The kids who were already at the door scatter in different directions. Somebody grabs Marissa's shoulders and jerks her backwards, and then steps protectively in front of her.

Aylin inexplicably runs right for the assailant and succeeds in pushing his arm away. The frozen projectile lands on the floor. "What the _hell_, dude?!" Aylin scolds.

"What?" he snaps back.

She brazenly slugs his arm. "That cannot happen."

Marissa decides to let Aylin and her friend fight it out and turns to the guy who was ready to take a slushy for her. "Thank you so much…um…" only, to her embarrassment, she doesn't know him.

The boy smiles – an impish grin that suggests he's up to something. "Charlie," he says, shaking her hand firmly.

"Marissa."

"I know; I'm in your pre-calc class."

She brings a hand to her rapidly reddening cheek. "Oh, my God, I am so sorry…"

"No prob; I sit in the back.' He raises an eyebrow. "You look a little shaken up. You cool?"

"Yeah," she says, not meaning it. "…You've had practice with this."

He shrugs. "A little."

Tina sidesteps the orange puddle at their feet and joins the pair. "Sorry to interrupt, but who knows what _that_'s about?"

Confused, Marissa looks back at Aylin and can't help the dumbfounded look on her face when she sees the girl locked in the world's most awkward PDA with the Slushy Guy. Neither party looks especially interested, but a kiss is a kiss, and this one's pretty deep.

"Get a room!" Harmony teases, coming to the front of the crowd of drama kids. Her friends giggle, and fear dissipates into the ridiculous curve the day has taken.

Hearing them, Aylin ends the kiss and sends the jock away with one final tug on the sleeve of his letterman jacket. To Marissa's surprise, he actually goes. Aylin sheepishly joins the group.

"Control your dog, Aylin," Charlie growls, eyes narrowing.

"Stay out of my _relationship_, Charlie."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you're _dating_ that Neanderthal?" Harmony chimes in, and Marissa shakes her head at the diva's inability to mind her own business.

"Paul's not that bad." Aylin turns to Marissa apologetically. "Seriously though, I _am_ sorry about that. My _boyfriend_," she glares at Charlie, "is still learning the ropes here. He's new. It won't happen again."

"How can you be so sure?" Tina scoffs.

"Well, I can't speak for his herd, but he won't try something like that while he's still vulnerable. He plays baseball - doesn't have power 'til February. He didn't hit you, did he?" she says, looking the redhead over.

"No," Marissa answers. "Charlie had my back."

"Yeah, well, he will at the beginning."

_Ohhhh awkward silencccceeeee_

"Soooo…cast list?"

Marissa is the first to crack into nervous laughter, followed by the rest of the theater crowd. Thank God for Harmony.

"Corcoran's not here yet and we're locked out. Didn't you get my group text?" Lily comments sharply. "Or did you think we were just waiting out here for fun?"

Harmony's eyes narrow and she goes from bubbly to scary in 3.5 seconds. "Maybe you should upgrade your walkie talkie so it sends the _entire_ text."

"Maybe _you_ shouldn't jump to conclusions so fast."

Gavroche makes a face and quickly maneuvers himself between the two girls. "_Maybe_ Ms. Corcoran's heading this way and you should both put your phones away before you get detention and have to spend three hours with each other on a Saturday!" he says, smiling to go along with his mock enthusiasm.

"I like him," Marissa whispers to Tina, who snickers.

Ms. Corcoran does indeed join the group, looking henpecked. She holds several binders and a book on raising toddlers. "Sorry I'm late!" she gasps. "Meetings."

The two men from auditions follow her, appearing equally annoyed. The short one runs a hand through his dark, curly hair. "Part!" he yells at the group in a voice that will get very grating very soon. Marissa moves aside and he unlocks the door. Harmony prepares to drag her inside.

Ms. Corcoran smiles slyly. "So, you guys ready to hear your fate?"

* * *

><p>Fate was not on Lily Mae's side.<p>

Marissa has to feel a little bad for her.

"Joanne?"

Lily stands in line with the other cast members, having wasted no time in questioning Ms. Corcoran.

"Sweetie," begins the musical director, "your voice type doesn't fit the part of Mimi, and frankly, at this rate, neither does you attitude. You are going to serve the part of Joanne very well. It's that or the door. Now, Aylin," Ms. Corcoran turns her attention somewhere less hostile. "You are going to be Mimi's understudy. Your audition was very good but you need to grow. View this as training."

"Thank you!" Aylin says, accepting a hug from Tina. Marissa shoots her a thumbs-up from a few kids away. That's all the female roles but one. Everyone else after this gets either the ensemble or nothing at all. She holds her breath.

Ms. Corcoran once again addresses the entire group. "But I am very excited to announce the last principle role of _RENT_. So congratulations – drum roll please –"

The cast obliges. Ms. Corcoran takes a dramatic pause…

"…Marissa."

The cast applauds and Marissa blushes deeply. "Thank you," she says, as evenly as she can despite being ready to scream with joy._ Mimi Marquez. _Her first lead!

Harmony, smiling as well after receiving her own good news ("I'm Maureen! I'm playing Idina Menzel!") tackle-hugs her. It's unexpected, but not unwelcome. Marissa hugs back. Over Harmony's shoulder, Charlie, the newly-anointed Roger, smiles.

Ms. Corcoran continues. "If I didn't call your name, welcome to the ensemble. There are plenty of solo moments, so don't worry. And congratulations, everyone. This is going to be a very memorable show. Now I'm leaving you all with Mr. Stanley for preliminary choreography while Dustin and I work out some things. Don't give him any lip." The teacher leaves with the handsome stage director. The glare Lily gives to her retreating form is felt by the entire group.

Dakota Stanley struts to the center of the room and spends a full minute sizing the students up before gracing them with a sentence: "Ms. Corcoran and Wheels may have casted you, but I will be _fixing_ you."

For the next fifteen minutes, no one is spared Stanley's critical eye. Gavroche is instructed to shave down his teeth. Aylin needs a nose job and platform shoes. Wes's country of origin comes into question, and when he answers that he is not, in fact, from "Prententious-stan," Dakota tells him to lose his tie and blazer.

As he moves down the line of teenagers, getting closer to her, Marissa quietly slips into panic mode.

When Artie arrives late, it only makes things worse.

Sebastian needs to exchange his meerkat face, and he can take "Pumbaa" (Lily Mae) with him when he does. Charlie is too tall. Tina and the other ensemble members are each assigned their own plastic surgeries, including a total vocal cord transplant for Sugar. David has no personality to speak of. Harmony, _of_ _course_, is "perfect, don't change a thing."

Finally, he hits the end of the line.

"You."

Marissa's eyes snap up. Or, rather, down. "Hmm?"

"Ah, yes, our star, Miss Mimi Marquez. What to do with you." Dakota circles around Marissa, taking in everything from outfit to hair color to choice of jewelry. She tries not to squirm under his gaze. After a moment, he says, "Well, you're obviously not Hispanic since you haven't stepped into the sunlight in years, but some things I am not allowed to do on the high school level."

She exhales.

"Ah-ah-ah!" He waves a finger in her face. "That means we're _settling_ for you, Weasley. You better be the best damn Mimi New York has ever seen. Vocal lessons with Ms. Corcoran. Outside dance classes. And aren't you playing a _starving_ artist here? You don't look like a HIV-positive junkie stripper, and makeup only does so much."

He wouldn't…

"Lose a few pounds to help you along."

* * *

><p><strong>Meanwhile…<strong>

Alright, enough is enough.

Something's wrong. You don't just throw away three years of friendship and a month and a half of dating because "you can't."

(Can't _what_, Cam still doesn't know.)

So he's come to the conclusion that something is either wrong with him or Marissa. And either way, he needs to be near her to figure out what that is.

No more "space." Time for a new plan.

"You have got to get me into that room."

Artie wheels on, probably more worried about getting himself to the Choir Room than Cameron. As expected, he breathlessly responds, "Can't. Gonna be late. Need a good track record. Can't bring in a random new guy. Sorry."

Cameron looks ahead and sees the Choir Room door already closed. But despite understanding where his friend's coming from, he can't let this one go. "Please? Come on, there has got to be something I can do."

"We've filled all the positions already!"

"Can't I just jump onto the crew or something?"

"Not when you're skinnier than most of the wood."

"Need an assistant-to-the-assistant-director?"

Artie brakes a few feet away from the door. "Cameron. There is nothing for you to do except come see the show in December. Okay? You will find a way to figure things out with Marissa _without_ stalking her. Goodbye." With that, Artie enters the Choir Room.

Cameron contemplates just following his friend in, but he doesn't have much of a plan besides that, so he just looks in the window. Artie is taking a verbal beating for tardiness while the cast looks like they've just been drafted. Marissa looks like she's about to pass out. He wonders if she got her part or not.

He just needs a way to get into that room.

"Unless you're going to tell me that you're purposely taking up space in the hallway in order to be ironically late to class, in which case I would have you expelled immediately, I suggest you get moving, before your skinny girl jeans restrict the blood flow to your legs and prevent you from ever taking another step, turning you into a statuesque, hipster mascot that rival teams steal and cover with toilet paper at sporting events."

Sue Sylvester's warning comes in just enough time for Cameron to back himself against a poster on the wall to avoid being mowed down by her army of Cheerios. When they pass, he peels himself off the colorful sign-up form and reads:

RENT _Rock Combo Auditions:  
><em>_10/15, 10/16  
><em>_Needed: drums, bass, _guitar_, keyboard_

Yeah, that'll work.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter title: "Hello, Goodbye" by The Beatles (<em>Glee_ Cast Version)_

_Author's Note_

_Wow, guys. It's been a year.__…Literally, an entire _year exactly_ since I updated this last. I'm truly sorry. But I promised that I wouldn't abandon this story, and I'm not. It means too much to me, and so do all of you. _

_A lot has happened in the last year. A lot of personal things. And I'd like to remind you that I suffer from ERST (Education-Related Stress Disorder, which I just made up but it is _real_). I reviewed this story a lot and I'd like to say that I'm a better writer than when I began, almost two years ago. _Glee_ even ha__d an eating disorder storyline __for its newest member, Marley. I can't say I like how they handled it, and I will be going ahead with how I planned _Pictures of You_, and if you see any similarities between how _Glee_ handled things and how I am handling things, well…It was my idea first! LOL jk. But I'm not going to steal, and as of right now I have no plans to add in the latest New Directions members__. (Also remember, there's no New Directions at my McKinley; the equivalent is joining the school's winter musical, and Concert Choir with Ms. Corcoran is offered as a class.)_

_Fun Fact: Paul (Aylin's boyfriend) is named after a real-life baseball player whose name was Paul Glee Waner. His middle name w__as Glee. I couldn't _not_ take that opportunity._

_So, I tried to make up for my absence with a longer-than-usual chapter that actually starts to get things moving along. Thank you all for consistently reviewing, favoriting, and reading. You're all lovely. Feel free to message me about anything. _


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